


Custom, Discreet

by inlovewithnight



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Fuckbuddies, M/M, Panties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-10 11:59:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6955696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inlovewithnight/pseuds/inlovewithnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyler accidentally discovers Jamie's kink. He is so very on-board.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Custom, Discreet

The first team barbeque was important, for bonding and whatever, making sure that everyone remembered how to fit together. They had to welcome the new guys in, too, and make sure _they_ could figure out where they fit in the whole pecking order of things.

Tyler remembered how weird that had been when he got to Texas. It would be even weirder with Sharpy and Oduya. So when Jamie sent the invite out, Tyler immediately replied.

_You want me to come over and help set up?_

Jamie’s answer was just as fast. _Yes please oh my god._

Tyler grinned and put a note in his calendar to go over the day before. Jamie would need plenty of time to panic and freak out, and Tyler would need plenty of time to calm him down again.

At least, he probably would. Maybe he was wrong; he and Jamie had barely seen each other since April, hadn’t even talked as much as they maybe could have. Jordie was still living in their old apartment until the lease ran out, leaving Jamie on his own, which he sucked at. Maybe he really did just want help moving furniture and buying hot dogs. 

But Tyler kind of doubted it.

**

As usual, he was right. He arrived to find Jamie mid-meltdown about how many bags of ice to buy.

“The worst thing that happens is someone has to run out and get more,” Tyler said patiently. “That’s not awful.”

“I just want this to go well.”

“It went fine last year.”

“This is _different_.”

Tyler knew what he meant. Jamie wanted to impress Sharpy and Oduya. He wanted to throw a better party than Toews. Not being a robot, that would be difficult. “It’s going to be fine, dude.”

Jamie kicked a chair, sending it skittering across the room. “They’re going to tell me to step down and give the C to Sharpy.”

“Okay, that’s dumb.” It wasn’t _impossible_ , but it was dumb, and pretty unlikely. “You need to calm down.”

“How am I supposed to do that?”

And, well, there was a standard answer to that, between the two of them. Tyler raised his eyebrows and stared at Jamie meaningfully until Jamie started blushing.

“Yeah?” Tyler prompted.

“Uh.” Jamie cleared his throat. “Sure. Yeah.”

“That didn’t sound very enthusiastic.” Tyler raised his eyebrows even higher. “Do you want to?”

Jamie’s face had so many shades of bright red. It was magical to behold. “Course I do.”

“I mean, it’s been a while.” Shit, it really had. Tyler’s stomach flipped a little. “If you’re not into it…”

“I am.” Jamie looked at Tyler with his lashes half-lowered and fuck, Tyler was such a sucker for that. “It’s cool.”

“Okay.” Tyler clapped his hands. “Couch, bed, or table?”

“My hips, man,” Jamie said, wide-eyed and maybe half innocent. “I need a bed.”

“Take me there, Captain,” Tyler said, and followed Jamie upstairs.

**

“Do you feel better?” he asked when they were done, sweaty and tangled up in Jamie’s sheets, sticky in good places.

“Yes.” Jamie sighed and turned over onto his stomach. “I want a nap. But I can’t have one. Because I have to figure out the…”

“Shut up,” Tyler interrupted. “You don’t have to figure anything out. Provide meat and a grill and beer. Everything will be fine.”

Jamie sighed again. “Could you do me a huge favor?”

“Maybe.”

“There’s a thing of propane in the truck. Can you get that while I shower, and put it with the grill? Then I’ll go do a Costco run and you can hose off the lawn chairs.”

“How come I don’t get a shower?”

“You get the hose.”

Tyler pinched Jamie’s side for that, Jamie cursed and hit at him, and Tyler laughed as he rolled out of bed and pulled his shorts on. “Propane. I’m on it, chief.”

The propane canister was not in the bed of the truck, like he assumed, but instead in the cab in front of the passenger seat. When Tyler opened the cab to take it out, he saw a big, heavy mailing envelope on the bench seat, where Jamie must have left it when he went inside.

“Collecting your mail for you, too, Benn,” Tyler muttered, picking the envelope up in one hand and grabbing the canister in the other. He dropped the latter by the grill and went inside with the former, turning it over in his hands. It wasn’t heavy; it felt like a t-shirt, maybe, something like that. Soft and bendable. The return address was something called Adair Services, so that didn’t tell him anything.

He heard Jamie clomping down the stairs and looked up, waving the envelope at him as he came into view. “What’s this? I brought it in from the truck for you.”

Jamie turned red again. Like, really red. He was just wearing boxers, and he turned red all the way down to his belly button.

“Can I open it?” Tyler found the pull-tab on the envelope. “It must be something good to make you look like that.”

“Don’t!” Jamie didn’t sound like it was funny. He sounded… weird. Weirder than usual, and his eyes were really big, almost like he was scared.

Tyler stopped, frowning, and tossed the envelope at him. “Okay, fine. Calm down.”

“It’s personal.” Jamie clutched it to his chest and took a step back toward the stairs. “That’s all. Just, um. Personal. No big deal.”

“Okay.” Then there was no reason for him to be looking at Tyler like Tyler had tried to get his dick out in front of a grandma, or something. “I’ll go get the hose and start on the chairs.”

“Thanks.” Jamie looked down for a minute, then at Tyler, and opened his mouth like he was going to say something. Maybe it would even be something that made sense. Tyler was happy to wait around for that.

But Jamie just turned red again and fled up the stairs like he was carrying a severed head, and Tyler went out back to hose down the chairs without any more of a fucking clue what was going on.

**

Before he went to bed that night, he googled Adair Services on his phone. The first result summary said it was a custom, discreet lingerie company. That seemed simple enough, and Tyler had seen plenty of lingerie in his day, so he switched the screen off without bothering to click through.

He didn’t get why Jamie would be weird about buying lingerie. Whatever. That was a thing people did, when they had girlfriends or whatever, girls they were sleeping with.

Except as far as Tyler knew, Jamie wasn’t seeing anybody, at least not with enough seriousness to stop them from messing around. But buying fancy stuff, that was kinda serious, like...

Oh.

Tyler was super not into being the other woman. That was not cool. Also not cool: being lied to.

“Goddamn it,” he sighed, pressing his hands over his eyes. “Goddamn it, Jamie.”

**

Tyler got to Jamie’s for the barbeque a few minutes early, hoping to corner Jamie and ask him why he lied, but apparently people in Chicago were punctual or something, because Sharpy and Oduya were already there. So instead of clearing the air, Tyler got to drink shitty beer and make awkward conversation while Jamie looked like he was being burned alive.

It helped when the other guys started showing up, but that meant that Tyler couldn’t get Jamie alone, because he was doing host and captain duties. Tyler ended up retreating back by the pool with Jordie and Demers, drinking and wishing one of them had planned ahead enough to sneak a joint in.

Eventually Demers went off for more beer, and it occurred to Tyler that Jordie might have all of Jamie’s secrets. “Hey, dude,” he said, as casually as he could. “Is Jamie seeing somebody?”

Jordie blinked at him slowly and took a drink. “Like a lady?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know. I’m not his keeper.”

“Come on, dude.”

Jordie shrugged. “Not that I know of. But like I said, I’m not monitoring him. Why don’t you just ask him yourself?”

Tyler fiddled with his empty bottle. “I didn’t see him all summer. Things were weird at the end of the season.”

Jordie frowned. “You guys still haven’t fixed that?”

Shit. Tyler hadn’t thought this through at all. “Never mind. I’m overthinking.”

“Segs...”

Tyler was saved by Demers coming back. He focused on the beer, let the conversation switch to this year’s hypothetical power play, and told himself to just fucking forget about it. If Jamie was seeing somebody, Jordie would know. And it wasn’t really any of Tyler’s business anyway.

**

The barbeque went pretty well, overall. Val spilled beer on Tyler’s phone and killed it, and Sharpy’s fancy sunglasses got smashed in an overly enthusiastic game of lawn volleyball, but all in all, not bad.

Tyler stayed to help with cleanup, and somehow wound up lingering after everyone else had gone. Jamie was exhausted, monosyllabic and grumpy from being in host mode all afternoon. Tyler focused on hauling bags of trash out to the curb and left him alone.

When he got back from the last trip to the curb, Jamie was standing in the kitchen, washing his hands and frowning absently. “Hey,” he said, his eyes wandering to Tyler. “I’m gonna take a shower, you want to order a pizza or something?”

Tyler leaned on the counter. “You don’t mind if I stick around a while?” 

“I never mind if you stick around.”

“You seem kinda worn out.”

Jamie half-smiled. “I need a shower. I’ll feel better after that. But if you don’t want to stay, you don’t have to.”

Tyler rolled his eyes at him. “I don’t turn down pizza, dude, even though we just ate like a whole herd of beef. But Val killed my phone, so give me yours.”

Jamie tossed it to him and headed upstairs, humming off-key to himself as he went. Tyler flopped down on the couch and went through Jamie’s contacts for the best pizza place that delivered here.

Once he’d ordered their usual, he poked halfheartedly at Jamie’s apps, checking the baseball scores and one of the weird puzzle games Jamie liked and Tyler was awful at. He tapped for the weather app next, but his finger missed, hitting the next icon on the screen—Jamie’s photo gallery.

It opened to a screen of thumbnails of the most recent shots, and it took a minute for Tyler to really grasp what he was looking at. They were selfies, but awkward ones, efforts at full-length shots in the mirror in Jamie’s bathroom. Tyler knew Jamie’s body well, he recognized the lines of muscle and bone, the patterns of tattoo ink on skin, but his brain didn’t know how to process the sight of that body wearing girls’ underwear.

 _Discreet custom lingerie_ , he thought dizzily. _Oh._

“Is the pizza coming?” Jamie’s voice carried from the stairs, and Tyler’s hand jerked, his thumb swiping down and showing another row of shots, these ones close-ups of Jamie’s dick encased in red satin.

“Tyler? Did you get it ordered?” Jamie emerged from the stairwell, shirtless and still damp, wearing jogging shorts, and Tyler stared at him, mouth open, mind blank, and face apparently revealing too much, from the way Jamie froze.

His eyes moved from Tyler’s face to the phone in his hand, and he took a step back, toward the stairs. He reached behind him, groping for the handrail, and almost fell as his foot caught on the bottom step.

“Jamie,” Tyler said, letting the phone fall to the couch. “Jamie, dude…”

“Don’t,” Jamie said, his voice a hoarse whisper. “Do not. Say anything.”

“I wasn’t snooping. It was an accident.”

“Shut up.”

“Dude, I don’t care, it’s fine, just—just stop trying to run away and talk to me.”

Jamie shook his head and grabbed the handrail, then turned and hurried up the stairs. Tyler heard a door slam a moment later, and dropped his head into his hands. 

Well, fuck. That could’ve gone a hell of a lot better.

His eyes went to the phone again, the screen now dark. He reached for it, then pulled his hand back. He didn’t know if he wanted to look at the pictures again or delete them, and it wasn’t like he had any right to touch the damn thing at all.

He took a deep breath and got up, making his way to the stairs. This wasn’t something he could let wait. Jamie didn’t work that way. It was either hash it out now or let it fester and get weird forever, and Tyler wasn’t willing to do that. Not over something like this.

“Jamie?” he called, looking at the three doors at the top of the landing. Bedroom, bathroom, other bedroom, third bedroom. “Jamie, dude, talk to me.”

Silence. He sighed and tried the bathroom door first.

No Jamie. Tyler turned to the first bedroom door next, surprised to find the door unlocked. Apparently bolting in a blind panic did have one upside.

Jamie was sitting on the edge of the bed, his face in his hands. “Jamie,” Tyler said, stopping in the doorway. “Dude, it’s _okay_.”

“Go away.”

“I’m not going to make fun of you. It’s not a big deal. It’s just—it’s clothes. That’s all. Not a thing.”

Jamie dropped one hand, grabbing at the bedding and twisting it between his fingers. “Of course it’s a big deal, Tyler.”

“I’m not going to tell anyone,” Tyler said patiently. “It’s just between us.”

Jamie finally looked at him. “You won’t?”

“Of course not. Jesus, man. You think I would do that to you? Just run around broadcasting all of your personal stuff?”

“I don’t know, chirping and shit, everybody does that.”

“Well, not about this. Okay?” Tyler waved his hand when Jamie looked away, dragging his attention back. “Just between us.”

Jamie nodded slightly, his shoulders slumping. “Thanks.”

“Yeah.” Tyler watched him for a moment. “You want to talk about it?”

“I don’t. I really don’t.”

Tyler nodded and took a step back onto the landing. “Okay. I’m gonna go wait for the pizza.”

Jamie glanced up at him, looking shy and almost small for a moment. “I’ll be down in a minute.”

Tyler rapped on the doorframe and hurried back down the stairs, reminding himself to breathe a little. There. That went okay. He and Jamie were okay. They were just… apparently not going to talk about this. Which was probably for the best. What would he say, anyway?

**

Tyler kept his word. He didn’t say anything to anybody, not even Jordie. Talking to a guy’s brother about his underwear would be extra-weird.

Things weren’t quite normal, though. Tyler wasn’t sure if it was the underwear thing, specifically, or more hangover from the spring and summer, but he and Jamie just didn’t seem to click. There weren’t any more hookups. Hanging out in a crew was fine, but one-on-one was strained and awkward. Jordie moved out of the apartment and into Jamie’s house, the preseason turned into the season, but Tyler and Jamie didn’t re-click.

And their passes weren’t connecting on the ice.

That bothered Tyler the most, because life was one thing but hockey was hockey. They needed to be in sync out there.

He cornered Jamie after practice one day, physically blocking Jamie’s stall until he stopped and looked at him. “Move,” Jamie said.

“Meet me after. At my car, okay? We need to figure this out.”

Jamie shook his head and threw his helmet onto the bench. “There’s nothing to figure out.”

“We’re not making our shots out there.”

“You are making your shots just fine.” Jamie threw his gloves next. “I am the one who is not making my shots, so let’s not talk about _we_.”

“We’re not hitting passes, either. That is both of us.” Tyler stepped in closer. “Look, we can figure this out, okay? We’ll fix it.”

Jamie looked at him out of the corner of his eye, worried and pained, and Tyler pushed back the urge to touch his arm and soothe him with contact. Normally he would, but things weren’t normal right now. Touching didn’t quite seem right.

“Okay,” Jamie said finally. “Yeah, okay, I’ll see you at the car. I gotta stop by the trainers, so I’ll be a few minutes, but I’ll meet you there.”

Tyler nodded and turned away, relieved at even the little bit of progress. Now he just had to figure out what he was going to say once they were alone.

**

Tyler didn’t come up with a plan; he decided to wing it, which was his usual approach to complicated situations. It had a 50% success rate at best. He was okay with that.

He met Jamie at his car, bullied him into it, and drove them to his favorite overpriced lunch spot for post-practice bullshit conversation. There were lunch specials that had put Jamie in a good mood before. Maybe that would bring the odds up of this going well.

Jamie gave him a distinctly unimpressed look when the waiter brought their drinks. “Are you trying to butter me up or something?”

“No.” Tyler made his best wide-eyed innocent face. “Why would I do that?”

“Dude.”

“I just want to talk to you.” Tyler leaned toward him and dropped his voice. “You’re acting weird at me and it’s dumb, dude. Is it because of the thing? Because I told you, I don’t _care_ about the thing. It’s _clothes_. It doesn’t _matter_.”

Jamie’s face went deep red. “Could you please just forget about that?”

“Why are you so worked up about it? It’s not—”

“It was _private_ , Tyler.” Jamie’s voice was tight, like he could hardly get the words out of his throat. “I know it doesn’t matter to you, but it _does_ matter to me. It’s private and it’s _mine_ , and I don’t want it to be—”

Tyler sat back in his chair and frowned. “You didn’t want it to be what?”

Jamie looked down at the table, his jaw clenched so tight it had to hurt. “A joke.”

“You think I’m going to laugh at you?”

Jamie shrugged.

“What kind of asshole do you think I am?”

Jamie glanced up, suspicion and confusion warring on his face. “You like to make jokes. You tease people.”

“Okay, yeah, but I’m not—I’m not _mean_.”

“It’s stupid. It’s ridiculous. Me with that stuff, like—like I’m not—like I could ever—”

Tyler leaned forward again, reaching across the table to catch Jamie’s arm, but Jamie pulled away. “You’re my friend, Jamie, I wouldn’t—”

The waiter appeared again with their food and they fell into uneasy silence, focusing on their plates without making eye contact again. Unease grew in Tyler’s stomach, not enough to keep him from eating but enough that by the time he was done he felt hot all over and couldn’t keep still in his chair.

“Dude,” he said finally, reaching across the table again and stealing Jamie’s fork when he evaded him. He needed _something_ to do with his hands. “Are you having, like—is it an identity thing? Are you, like… are you saying you feel like a chick inside, or something? I mean, I met Jenner at the Espys, and everything—”

Jamie closed his eyes. “Jesus goddamn Christ, Tyler.”

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“We’re in the middle of a fucking restaurant.” Jamie took a deep breath. “But no. I don’t feel like—I don’t feel like anything, I just feel like me.”

“You don’t want to make…” Tyler waved his hands. “Changes?”

Jamie looked at him with the grim, sour expression he usually reserved for reporters who asked him the same question too many times. “I already changed my hips and I’d like it if my jaw didn’t click.”

“I’m trying to be supportive and shit here and you’re just being a dick.”

“How did you go from ‘it’s just clothes’ to ‘you must want to be a chick’?”

“I don’t know, you keep avoiding the question!”

“I’m not talking about this anymore here.”

“Fine. Then I’m coming over when we’re done.”

Jamie pushed his plate away. “I hate you so fucking much.”

“You do not.”

“I could get there.”

Tyler shrugged and finished his iced tea. “Almost doesn’t count. Let me know when you do get there.”

**

Back at Jamie’s house, Tyler pushed past him and went upstairs. “Tyler,” Jamie said, his voice sharp and uncertain. “Tyler!”

Tyler ignored him, going into his bedroom and pulling open the dresser drawers one by one, digging through boxers and t-shirts looking for a flash of red fabric that was shiny and soft and didn’t fit with the rest.

“Tyler, _don’t_ ,” Jamie said, sounding almost frantic now. It was too late, though; Tyler had found them, folded carefully in the bottom drawer, buried under loose warmup pants with the Rockets logo that couldn’t possibly fit Jamie anymore.

The red ones were there, and a few others—dark blue, black, a shade close to victory green that made Tyler’s breath hiccup in his chest. That pair was trimmed in black lace, and the blue pair had one of the fancy open backs criss-crossed with delicate straps; a girlfriend had told Tyler once what that style was called, but he couldn’t remember now. He could barely remember his own name.

He looked up, meeting Jamie’s eyes, Jamie’s eyes that looked wide and terrified and vulnerable. He was holding Jamie’s heart in his hands right now and he knew it; he could break him with a false move. He could protect him with the right words, though. He could give him the material to build another layer over a soft spot and help him get through the world.

Tyler liked to break things just to see them smash, sometimes. But not this. Not now.

He held up the double handful of soft fabric. “Which is your favorite?”

Jamie was breathing fast and shallow, his face pale. “I don’t—”

“Show me.” Tyler tossed them down on the bed, making sure each fell distinct from the others, spread out so Jamie could choose. “The one you like the best. The one you feel the best in.”

Jamie stood still for a moment, then licked his lips and stepped forward, hooking his fingers in the waistband of the dark blue pair, the fancy style Tyler sudden remembered was called _ouvert_.

“I like these,” Jamie said, his voice shaking. “I don’t—I mean, I don’t know why. I just like them.”

Tyler nodded, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Part of his brain was howling at him to be careful, but he was bad at that, he had always been bad at that. “Show me.”

“What?”

Tyler gestured, waving his hand in a circle like he was telling Jamie to turn around, to work it, show it off. “Put ‘em on. Let me see.”

“Tyler.”

“Just do it, Jamie.” And that was the risk point, where Jamie would either bend or dig in, where Tyler would either reach the other side of this or break them beyond repair. “Let me see you.”

He could see when Jamie decided to bend. The tension in his neck and shoulders eased and he let the underwear fall to the bed, so that he could grab the back of his t-shirt and pull it off over his head.

This was a show Tyler had seen before, Jamie undressing for him, and he leaned back on his palms to enjoy it. Jamie’s body was so big, so… square and solid. It wasn’t relentlessly hard-cut like some of the guys. It wasn’t wiry and corded like Tyler himself. It was just _mass_. Jamie’s body looked like it could take a beating from the world and endure.

He pushed his sweats down off his hips and Tyler smiled, because this part was good, too, Jamie’s stupid big dick coming out where he could see it. Thick and heavy between Jamie’s thighs, demanding Tyler’s attention even soft. Jamie brushed his palm against almost absently, less like he wanted sensation and more like he was checking if it was still there. Tyler wanted to tease him, to point out that he’d notice if that thing went missing, but he bit his lip and waited.

Jamie picked up the panties again, sliding the waistband between his fingers to open it up and then stepping into them carefully. He pulled them halfway up his thighs and stopped, one hand returning to his dick, cupping it this time and guiding it loosely between his legs, not fully tucked back but positioned to let the soft fabric find its place, holding everything neatly as Jamie got the band settled.

Tyler’s mouth was dry, his fingers worrying at his palms. The panties rode low off Jamie’s hips, his pubic hair a dark tangle rising above the waistband. Somehow it made the look even better, hotter, the reminder that this wasn’t a model or a fantasy, this was _Jamie_ , scars visible on his hips and a bruise on his side from taking a puck hard at practice.

Tyler licked his lips before he could speak. “Let me see the back.”

Jamie turned slowly, looking back over his shoulder at Tyler, still looking so anxious that Tyler wanted to reach out and touch him, soothe him, tell him it was _okay_. He kept holding back, though, studying Jamie’s body and hoping his appreciation showed on his face. 

And just in case that wasn’t enough for Jamie’s nerves—“Damn, you look hot in those.”

It wasn’t an exaggeration, not even a little bit; Jamie’s ass was pale in contrast to the dark blue fabric, a smooth white curve exposed by the open back and framed by the delicate straps that crossed up to join the waistband. Tyler wanted to run his fingertips along the straps, from bottom to top, then slide his palms back down over all that skin. He wanted to slap it once or twice and watch color bloom under his hand. Maybe bite it, even; teeth marks there would stand out stark and gorgeous, and last a while. Fuck. That would look good.

Jamie definitely wasn’t ready for that, though. He looked like he might bolt out of the room just from Tyler looking at him. His face was still deep red, and his hands were fidgety at his sides, clenching into fists and then opening up again, rubbing anxiously at his hips, moving to his belly and then back flat at his sides. He didn’t know what to do with himself. Tyler would have to help him out.

“You look so hot,” he said again, his voice coming out rough and throaty. “Come here. Can I touch you?”

Jamie took a step toward him, then hesitated, his hands curling into fists at his sides again. “I…”

It was important not to let him get caught up in thinking; if his brain started moving fast he would talk himself into a panic in no time at all. “Or can I watch you touch yourself?” Tyler coaxed, not moving from the bed. “That would be so fucking hot, Jamie. Seeing what you like to do when you get dressed up. I want to see that. The stuff you like the best.”

Jamie blushed more, but his hands relaxed, and a little bit of tension left his shoulders. “Sometimes I don’t do anything,” he said cautiously. “I just, like. Wear them? And watch TV or read or whatever, just… just hanging out.”

“Nothing’s hanging out,” Tyler said, grinning at him. “Not that I can see, anyway.”

And yes, victory, Jamie laughed, looking down but not before Tyler saw the big, goofy grin that he loved to make happen. This was good. This was progress.

“I don’t know,” Jamie said, but his hand was moving, from his side to the curve of his cock under the soft fabric. He rubbed the heel of his hand over himself, slowly, from the base down to where it tucked back between his thighs. On the slide back up he switched to his palm, letting his hand match itself to his body. His breath hitched a little bit, his eyes darting to Tyler’s face, and Tyler smiled at him, trying to offer as much encouragement as he could without going too far and making Jamie nervous.

“It just—it feels good.” Jamie’s voice wobbled a little, his hand moving in a slow, steady circuit of stroking, more pressure on the downstroke and less as his hand came back up. “I mean. No shit, right? Of course it…”

“I’m glad it feels good.” Tyler watched closely, every stroke of Jamie’s hand adding to the pool of deep achy heat building in the pit of his stomach. He wanted to touch. He wanted to lick at the panties until they were wet and slick and transferred the smallest bit of motion directly to Jamie’s skin. He wanted to soak them through and tongue-fuck Jamie until he was begging. He wanted to slide his hand down the bare skin of Jamie’s ass and get his fingers under that little bit of fabric pretending at modesty. 

“You should always feel good,” he added, wincing at how corny that sounded out loud, but it made Jamie smile again, so okay. Good. Jamie’s dick was getting harder, more distinct under the fabric and stirring out from between his thighs. Jamie pushed down a little on it, like he was trying to keep it contained, then gave up—Tyler could _see_ him give up, a little sigh, rolling his head back and lifting his chin—and rubbed his thumb against the base in lazy circles, riding the pressure and pleasure without chasing more for the moment. 

His skin was starting to flush, and there was a hint of sweat at his hairline. Tyler could feel both things himself, like he was Jamie’s mirror—heat under his skin and a prickle of sweat along his scalp. His hands were still behind him, propping him up off the mattress, but he was getting hard, too, just from watching. His own personal live show, hot and so close by and in color.

“Jamie,” he said finally, rubbing his hands on his thighs. “I really want to get my hands on you right now. You’re so hot. I mean it.”

Jamie shook a little. Just, his whole body, it shivered, his hand shifting to squeeze the base of his dick instead of rubbing. Tyler _talking_ made him have to check himself. Tyler could get used to being able to do that.

He eased off the bed and crossed over to Jamie slowly, keeping eye contact with him the whole time. He needed to give Jamie the chance to flinch back if he needed to, but also showing that he was in this. It wasn’t a joke. 

Jamie’s face flushed dark—his whole body did, _Jesus_ , it looked good. He took his hand away from his dick, rubbing it against his hip. “You’re sure?”

“Very sure.” Tyler got down on his knees, still holding Jamie’s gaze. “Driving me crazy just looking at you. Seeing you like this.”

Jamie faltered. “Like what?”

“Fucking hot,” Tyler said honestly, sliding his hands up Jamie’s thighs to his hips. “Pretty and shit. Like, the contrast, you know? All these muscles and you being built like a goddamn tank but then there’s satin and lace.”

Jamie cleared his throat. “It’s silk.”

“Whatever.” Tyler closed his eyes and pressed his face to the fabric, breathing the hot musky scent of Jamie’s dick through the fabric. “I want to put my mouth all over it.”

“That’s cool.” Jamie sounded a little breathless now. “Yeah. You can… you can do that.”

“Can I?” Tyler rubbed his cheek against the hard curve of flesh. “You think you’re doing me a favor by giving permission? You don’t _want_ it?”

Frustration rolled through Jamie the same way the shudders of anticipation did. “Of course I fucking want it.”

“Good.” Tyler licked his lips, then licked the fabric, tracing the shape of Jamie’s dick under the silk. It was warm everywhere, wet at the tip, and Tyler ached to mouth at it, suck on it, get the panties out of the way and take it deep for real. But going slow would be more fun. Making Jamie shake and gasp until he broke down would be way, way more fun.

So that was the goal. That and making sure Jamie knew how fucking hot he was like this. Tyler wanted to remove all doubt.

He licked up and down Jamie’s length, until the silk was wet and heavy, clinging to Jamie’s dick as it pulled out away from his body. The tip where Jamie’s cock was leaking was even darker with wet, and tasted salt-sweet every time Tyler’s tongue passed over it, until he gave in and sucked at the head through the silk. Jamie groaned, his hips bucking, and Tyler steadied them with his hands as he worked his tongue, rubbing soaked-slick fabric against sensitive skin.

“Fuck,” Jamie gasped. “Fuck, Tyler. More? Can you… can you suck me off for real, like this?”

“Suck you right through your pretty panties?” Tyler let himself really lean on the last two words, let them linger on his tongue and in Jamie’s ears, and sure enough, Jamie shivered again. His dick jerked and bumped Tyler’s chin.

“Please,” he whispered. “Tyler, fucking… _please_.”

Tyler took his time again, mouthing hard flesh up to the base and back down again, letting his teeth scrape here and there. When Jamie’s thighs were shaking under his hands, he sucked at the head again, getting his fingers in to lift Jamie’s cock and the clinging fabric to an angle where he could suck an awkward inch or two of it into his mouth.

Jamie was making sounds that were half moans, half raw noises like he was in pain. Tyler gambled on the notion that he wasn't, and kept going, sucking and mouthing and working the slick fabric against Jamie's hot skin until Jamie shuddered and gasped and came.

“Fuck,” Jamie breathed, looking down his body at Tyler. “Oh my god.”

“Yeah.” Tyler grinned up at him, licking his lips and wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. “So hot, right?”

Jamie was still taking big heaving breaths, staring at Tyler like he didn't quite see him. Tyler climbed to his feet and kissed him, rubbing his dick against Jamie's thigh in case Jamie wasn't catching on. “Bed?” 

Jamie nodded and moved with him, backing him to the bed and half-falling onto it. Tyler was underneath him, with a decent angle to kiss Jamie over and over and rub up against his thigh. It wasn't, like, ideal, but it definitely worked.

Jamie fell asleep after, still in the soaked panties, his arm thrown across Tyler's chest. Tyler gave himself a silent high five for demons vanquished and closed his eyes. He took care of everything.

***

Jamie didn’t talk to Tyler for three days besides practice stuff. It might have gone on for longer, but three days was Tyler’s limit, after that mess of everything being fucked up for _months_. If that happened again he was going to lose his mind.

It didn’t make any sense. He’d shown Jamie that he was into it, that it didn’t bother him at all. He had made that _really clear_. Orgasm-clear. Jamie should be inviting him over for constant hookup time, not avoiding him. 

But here they were, for the third day running, with Jamie breaking sprint records to get out of the locker room and out to his truck before Tyler could catch him. 

He grabbed Jordie’s arm instead. “Dude, what the fuck is going on with him?”

“I was going to ask you.” Jordie shrugged. “He’s having a Jamie episode. He’ll work it out.”

“A Jamie episode. That’s a good term for it.”

“Overthinking something.” Jordie nodded wisely and Tyler had to fight the urge to hug him. Jordie was just… good at this. Being reassuring. If Jordie wasn’t freaking out, then Tyler didn’t have to either. He could take his time and figure out a plan.

“Should I go over to his place tonight and get him wasted?” he asked, bumping Jordie with his hip.

“No, because we have a game tomorrow.” Jordie bumped him back, hard enough to knock him sideways a step. “But take him out after the game and see if you can get him to talk. Worth a shot. If you can’t, let me know and I’ll sit him down after that.”

“He can’t resist you.”

“He _can_.” Jordie thought for a minute. “But it doesn’t happen very often.”

That was good enough for Tyler.

**

They won the game 6-3, and Jamie had four points, which meant the whole team took him out for drinks, not just Tyler. That was fine with him. The more people around and the more booze going down Jamie’s throat, the better the odds of him being relaxed and happy and susceptible to Tyler pouring him into a cab and taking him somewhere they could talk.

It was kind of creepy when he thought about it like that. He wasn’t _manipulating_ Jamie. He just wanted to talk to him.

He waited for Klinger to go to the bathroom and slid in next to Jamie at the bar. “Hey, dude.”

Jamie blinked at him, hazy and smiling. “Hey. That was a beauty goal in the third, Segsy.”

“Thanks.” Tyler put his hand on Jamie’s elbow, light and careful. “You wanna get out of here?”

Jamie blinked again, and Tyler could almost see the wheels turning in his head. “You mean like… go home?”

“Yes. Together.”

Jamie’s jaw tightened. “I don’t think that’s a great idea.”

Tyler forced himself to take a breath and be patient. The whole point of this was to talk. Most of the talking should probably be in private, but if he could at least get Jamie started, that was… well, it was something. “How come?”

“It’s…” Jamie hesitated and stared into his beer like it had all the answers. “It’s all fucked up, you know?”

“What is?”

“Me.” Jamie nodded to the beer and took a drink. “I’m all fucked up.”

“You’re not. You scored four points tonight and you led us to a win.”

Jamie shook his head. “That’s hockey. That’s different.”

Tyler took another deep breath and prayed for serenity. “Let’s get out of here and you can tell me what’s bugging you, huh? Somewhere quieter. We don’t have to do other stuff if you don’t want to, but we can talk, right? We’re friends. Friends talk.”

Jamie took another drink, watching Tyler over the edge of his glass with eyes that seemed a little sharper than they were a minute before. “That’s true.”

“Maybe I can help you figure it out. Whatever’s bugging you. I’m pretty good at that, right?”

“You’re not the worst at it.” Jamie looked down the bar. “You’re better than Kevin.”

“That is the rudest comparison possible, wow.” Tyler followed Jamie’s gaze. “Fuck you, Kevin.”

Jyrki ignored them both, as usual. That guy.

Jamie killed his beer and nodded, wiping his mouth on his arm. “Okay. Let’s go. You can listen to my shit, and then you’ll get that it’s a bad idea and I’m fucked up and there’s no way to fix it. Then we can play video games. Cool.”

Tyler couldn’t think of any video games Jamie owned that he would be able to play while this drunk without puking. “Sure. I’ll listen to your shit, and I’ll tell you that you’re not fucked up and we can fix it, and then I’ll put you to bed with water and Advil, how’s that?”

“Fuck you, man. You don’t even know.” There wasn’t any heat to the words, though. Jamie put money in the tip jar on the bar, yelled at Daddy that he was leaving and someone should pick up his tab, and headed for the exit, Tyler at his heels. He had closed his tab in advance, because he was smart, not because he was a master manipulator. Definitely not that.

They were both quiet in the cab, staring out the windows and deflecting the driver’s attempts at conversation. Eventually he fell silent, too, and they rode along to the sound of an NPR segment about fish farming. Catfish or something. Tyler didn’t get it.

Jamie let them into the house, tossing his keys to the floor next to extra pairs of shoes and some sample sponsor gear. Tyler followed along, kicking off his shoes and sticking close enough to catch Jamie's arm when he swayed on his feet.

"Let's get some water, huh, Arty?"

"Yeah." Jamie drifted to the kitchen. "Maybe a popsicle."

"I'd love a popsicle. Good thinking."

"Don't humor me, okay?"

"I'm not." Tyler sighed and sat down at the counter. "Why are you in such a mood?"

Jamie shrugged, staring at the sink. "You weren't supposed to be cool about it."

"What?"

"You were supposed to laugh, or be grossed out, or tell me to get away from you. You weren't supposed to be cool."

"You... you think I'm that kind of asshole, Jamie?"

Jamie shook his head slowly. "But I hoped you would be."

"Why would you hope that? What the fuck?" Tyler was so close to shouting. His throat hurt with wanting to yell, his hands hurt with wanting to punch Jamie until he apologized for this bullshit. 

"Because if you hated it, I could hate it enough to stop. I would know it was... I could make myself stop."

Tyler went from angry to empty so quickly his vision blurred. "Jamie. No. There's not... there's nothing to hate. There's nothing wrong with you."

"That's scary." Jamie's voice was barely above a whisper. "That's scarier than if you hated it."

"Let me help you, okay?"

"How?"

Tyler got up and walked over to him, careful to go slow. "Well, if me hating it would give you permission to hate it, then maybe me being cool with it means you can be cool with it, too, huh?”

Jamie frowned. “That doesn’t sound right.”

“Think about it. The logic is foolproof.”

“I… I guess.” Jamie took a deep breath, his eyes widening a little. Tyler really wanted to kiss him. “Wow. That does make sense. You’re really cool with it? For real?”

“I really am, dude.” Tyler reached out and patted Jamie’s arm carefully. “I promise.”

“Maybe I can be cool with it, then. Maybe. Eventually.”

“I totally believe you can.” Tyler petted him a little more, moving closer. “Hey, I’ve got an idea.”

Jamie snorted. “That can’t be good.”

“Hey.” Tyler stuck his tongue out at him and Jamie giggled. “No, seriously. Let me order you something? I’ll pick out something special, just for you. Something that I really want to see you in, really super-sexy. So you know I definitely like it.”

Jamie watched him closely, forehead furrowed up. “You wouldn’t laugh?”

“I swear on Cash and Marshall, I will not laugh.”

“Okay. I mean… okay.” Jamie was already flushed from drinking, but the color got even stronger and he ducked his head. “My laptop. It’s, like. Logged in to my account. All my… my measurements and stuff are saved. Um. Just don’t change any of the settings, okay? And don’t laugh.”

“No laughing. Got it.” Tyler brushed the back of his fingers over Jamie’s cheek. “What are you gonna do while I do that?”

“Um.” Jamie laughed a little. “I’m gonna go pass out, probably. More drunk than I should’ve gotten tonight.”

“Lie on your side so you don’t choke, eh?”

“Whatever,” Jamie muttered, and started toward the stairs. “You gonna stay here tonight or go home?”

“I better get home.” Staying had definite appeal, but when Jamie was this drunk he turned into a stubborn, demanding, overly-warm human blanket overnight, and he probably wouldn’t be in any kind of sexy mood in the morning. Plus Tyler’s dogs needed him, and going home just seemed like the adult thing to do.

He kind of hoped Jamie would ask him to stay, but Jamie just nodded and made his way clumsily up the stairs, disappearing from Tyler’s sight. Tyler sat still long enough to hear his footsteps make it all the way down the hall and stop without any kind of crash or thud, then went to open up the laptop.

He typed in “adair” and let it autocomplete. The site kept up the whole “custom, discreet” theme all through the home page, all in black and white with little swirling flourishes here and there, and no pictures until he clicked through some of the collection names. There was a box at the top left corner indicating that, like Jamie had said, he was logged in. 

Tyler clicked on one of the collection names at random and scrolled through, studying the range of fancy lingerie. He knew himself well enough to know he was a simple guy, with straightforward tastes. With a girl, he wanted the lingerie to show off the assets, not tease. Jamie’s assets were different, though, so he had to think about it differently. It wasn’t all about cleavage and Brazilians.

He sat back for a minute and tried to think about which of Jamie’s assets he _did_ want showcased. His ass. The pretty swell of his cock. And on the upper body… shoulders. Jamie had awesome shoulders.

Okay. Now he had something to think about.

He resumed clicking through the collections, looking for stuff that fit those criteria. There were some cute lacy things he could just picture stretched over Jamie’s dick, and more ouvert styles with cut-outs and straps in the back. He put all of them in the shopping cart, then clicked over to bras and camisoles. He wasn’t sure if Jamie would wear a regular bra. It seemed like something he might get weird about, in his unpredictable Jamie weirdness. Camisoles, then. 

He ended up grabbing some halter-top styles, and babydolls, and then this one that had skinny shoulder straps but also a _collar_ for no apparent reason, attached to the bodice with more skinny straps; it was fucking weird but it got his dick’s attention and that was good enough for him.

Tyler’s original plan had been to go through the cart when he was done and narrow it down to one combination, delete the rest, and just present the outfit to Jamie as a done deal. But he couldn’t stay there all night, and he’d used up all of his decision-making abilities already, so he just ordered the whole damn lot of them, closed the laptop, and went home.

Sort out the details later: the Tyler Seguin life philosophy. It never steered him wrong.

**

He got a text from Jamie two weeks later. _What did you order? This box is huge._

Tyler grinned and started looking around for his pants. _Is Jordie home?_

_No he’s out._

_Then I’ll be right over!!!!_ He actually couldn’t remember exactly what he’d ordered, just that it was all sexy and awesome. Jamie would look great in it.

He let himself in at Jamie’s house and hurried up to the master bedroom, being as loud as possible on the stairs so he wouldn’t startle the guy. He wanted this to go smoothly and be fun, with minimal weirdness and maximum sexy. He knew he could make it happen.

Jamie was sitting on the floor of his bedroom, the empty box at his side, packing material haphazardly stuffed back into it. The pieces Tyler had ordered were spread out around him in a half-circle, looking even brighter and more delicate than they had online. Tyler stopped in the doorway and tried to imprint the picture on his brain, especially when Jamie reached out to brush his fingertips over one of the babydolls. His hand was shaking as he caressed the fabric, and Tyler wanted to punch the air in victory. 

“I knew you’d like them,” he said, and Jamie jumped anyway, despite all his good intentions. “Dude, I came up the stairs like a herd of elephants, you didn’t hear me?”

“I was distracted.” Jamie’s face was bright red and he didn’t look at Tyler, keeping his eyes fixed on an empty patch of floor between the lingerie. “These are really… this must have cost a lot, dude.”

“Well, I used your account? So they went on your card, you know?” Jamie didn’t smile at all, which, okay, time to switch tactics. “I couldn’t make up my mind. You’ll look so great in any of them. I couldn’t choose.”

Jamie touched the little strappy thing with the collar. “You swear you’re not laughing at me?”

“I swear to God, Jamie.”

“You really think I’d look good in this.” He hooked his his fingers in the collar and picked the whole thing up. It looked impossibly tiny in his hands. 

“I think you’ll look amazing. I want to see it.”

“This one?” 

Tyler licked his lips and nodded, moving a few steps closer. “Yeah, for sure.”

“And which underwear?” Jamie frowned down at the panties, spread out in a little cluster to his left. “You really think they’ll fit?”

“I ordered them from your measurements, dude. They’ve gotta fit. You gave them your dick size, right?” Jamie’s face went even more red, and Tyler’s own dick twitched in his pants. “The ones with the bow in the back. I want to see you in those.”

Jamie picked them up, too, brushing his fingers over the lace panels at either side of the satiny pouch that would stretch over his dick. “These are… they’re really pretty.”

“You’ll look pretty in them.” Tyler smiled at him, hoping Jamie could tell how much he meant it, and that this wasn’t a game. “Put it all on for me? Please?”

Jamie stood up and shuffled toward the bathroom, clutching the bits of satin and lace and promise to his chest. When the bathroom door closed, Tyler came the rest of the way in and sat down on the foot of the bed, reminding himself how to breathe. 

He couldn’t wait to see what Jamie looked like. He had been imagining it pretty hard, but reality was totally going to be better. It had to be. It was _Jamie_.

Jamie was in the bathroom for a long time. Tyler wanted to call out to him, to either chirp him or coax him out, but he made himself be patient. Jamie needed time to get ready for stressful stuff. It was part of him, one of the things Tyler had learned to roll with when they became friends, and even more when they started hooking up. Pushing Jamie harder than he wanted to go only worked on the ice and in the gym. Anywhere else, it backfired.

The bathroom door opened an inch, then closed again. “Tyler?”

“I’m right here, Jame. Whenever you’re ready.”

“You’re sure you want to see?”

Tyler bit his lip to keep from ruining all of his good intentions. “Yes. I’m very sure. I’m one hundred and fifty percent sure. Come on out.”

“I just. This is.”

“I know. I picked it out, remember? I know what it is.”

The door opened again, a little wider this time, and finally all the way. Jamie stepped into the bedroom, his hands held awkwardly behind his back, letting Tyler see everything without obstruction.

And _yes_ , it was exactly what Tyler had been hoping to see. It was fucking amazing.

“You look so good,” Tyler breathed, sitting up straight. “Holy shit, Jamie, you look so _hot_.”

Jamie was standing with his shoulders hunched and his head down, and it _still_ looked amazing. The collar was snug around his throat, and the straps running down from it to the bodice stretched tight over his chest, drawing Tyler’s eyes down to his pecs and then back up to his shoulders. The bodice fell in soft lines, smooth and clinging, with just a little lace at the hem to weigh it down. 

The lace skimmed along the waistband of the panties, which stretched over Jamie’s dick just like Tyler had pictured them. He wanted to see the back, and find out if it was how he’d pictured it, too, the straps criss-crossing over the swell of Jamie’s ass, flaunting all the pale skin and muscle, and the cut on the legs making his thighs look even longer and stronger than they already were.

“Turn around,” he said, gesturing. His voice was all hoarse and thick; he needed to either spit or swallow. Which was a distracting thought. He would definitely come back to that, and soon.

Jamie turned slowly, his hands held out from his sides. Tyler wanted to tell him to stand up straight, stop hunching, but this wasn’t a great time to act like Jamie’s grandma or something. Instead he focused on how yes, the straps did cross over Jamie’s ass just right, the gaps between them showing off perfect strips of white skin. 

“Jesus,” Tyler said, hoping Jamie could hear his sincerity in his voice. “You look amazing. Totally fucking sexy. Get over here.”

Jamie looked back over his shoulder, his eyes wide and scared. “Yeah?”

 _God_ , Tyler couldn’t wait to get his hands on him. And his mouth, and everything else. He wanted to touch Jamie all over. 

“Fucking… yes, yeah, oh my god. Jamie. Get over here _now_.”

Jamie stumbled over to the bed, still blushing furiously. “I feel really…”

“Hot? Turned on? Ready for me to get on you?”

“I was gonna say awkward.”

“You are the opposite of awkward. Believe me.” Tyler reached up and caught his fingers in the shoulder straps, then changed his mind. Ripping the outfit off Jamie had its appeal, but Jamie had only been wearing it for like five minutes. Tyler could ruin it later. 

He grabbed Jamie’s biceps instead and pulled him down on top, making him hold Tyler’s body to the mattress. 

“Are we making out or am I fucking you?” Jamie asked, blinking at Tyler from a few inches away.

Tyler rolled his eyes and shoved his hands up under the camisole. “Don’t make it sound so romantic, dude.”

“I just want to know if there’s a plan, here, or if we’re just—”

“Oh my god, shut up.” Tyler fumbled around under the fabric until he found Jamie’s nipples and gave them a good hard pinch. Jamie yelped and rocked back, then pressed down against Tyler harder. “Fuck. That’s good. But yeah, kissing first. Kiss me a lot.”

“You’ve gotta take your clothes off, too,” Jamie grumbled, squirming to get Tyler’s hands off his chest and then kissing him hard. “At some point.”

“I will. Very soon.” Tyler closed his eyes and concentrated on the weight of Jamie’s body against his, the heat of Jamie’s mouth—and so _soft_ , how were Jamie’s lips always so soft and not chapped to hell like every other hockey player Tyler knew?—and the little sounds the fabric made whenever Jamie moved. 

“D’you wanna—” Jamie’s words broke off into a groan as Tyler moved his mouth to Jamie’s neck. “Fuck. Um. D’you wanna suck me off again? Through the… the… like the other time, I mean. It felt really awesome.”

“Yeah? I thought you liked that.” Tyler sucked at Jamie’s neck and then pulled back slowly. “But if I do that, you’re not gonna fuck me.”

“I saw you staring at my ass. I know you want to stick it in.”

“You _suck_ at this, oh my god.” Tyler rolled them over and straddled Jamie’s hips. “No more talking. Be quiet. I’m revoking your words, dude.”

Jamie flipped him off with both hands and stretched out on the bed. His dick was so nice and thick under the panties. “You’re not revoking shit, Segsy, that’s not how it works around here—”

Tyler shut him up the easy way, by moving back and ducking his head down and getting his mouth on him. Oral through fabric was a goddamn art form, and Tyler prided himself on being an artiste; he had never had any complaints from anyone he took to bed, whatever their gender. 

Well. No complaints about the oral, anyway. Complaints about _basic hygiene_ and _you want to call me what?_ and _I’m not really into guys who shave that far down_ weren’t relevant to the current situation.

He just loved making Jamie squirm and gasp. Making him writhe around under Tyler on the bed. It was awesome, and Jamie only lost control like that when he felt really, really good. Getting Jamie to give it up was one of Tyler’s favorite things in the world.

And this time, after he got Jamie to give it up, he got to get Jamie to _give it up_. His fine ass was all Tyler’s.

“Okay,” Tyler said, wiping his mouth and snapping the waistband against Jamie’s hip. “You got yours. Roll over, it’s my turn.”

“You’re a dick,” Jamie mumbled, all blissed-out and flushed and cute. Tyler grinned at him and snapped the waistband again.

“Let me at the booty, Benn.”

“You’re _dumb_.” But Jamie rolled over, settling on his elbows and knees, resting his forehead on crossed wrists and shoving his ass up in the air. Tyler ran his hands down Jamie’s thighs, enjoying the way soft skin moved over hard muscle, then moved them back up again to palm the curves of his cheeks and trace his fingers over the edge of the fabric where it formed the window between criss-crossed straps.

It was positioned high enough for modesty, ass cleavage without an actual glimpse of the dark side of the moon, but Tyler was pretty sure he could tug the fabric down out of his way and fuck Jamie with his panties on. If he ended up ripping them, he would buy Jamie some more. Fair deal. And _god_ , the idea worked for him. He was hard as a rock and leaking all over the place.

“Is this cool?” he asked, rubbing the head of his dick on Jamie’s skin. “I’m just gonna pull them down.”

“‘s fine,” Jamie mumbled, pushing back against him. “Hurry up.”

“I need a condom, dude.” 

“You know where they are.”

Tyler pinched Jamie’s inner thigh instead of bothering with an answer, and while Jamie hissed and whined at him to stop it, he crawled over to the bedside table to find the Trojans and KY. Jamie was so _basic_. Tyler never in a million years would have guessed about the panties on his own.

He gloved up, lubed up, and moved back behind Jamie. “Relax for me, babe.” 

“Fuck off,” Jamie mumbled, but Tyler could see him doing it, relaxing his muscles and opening up his hips and just getting _ready_ for Tyler. It was goddamn hot, and when Tyler hooked his fingers in the edge of the window in the panties and pulled down to expose Jamie’s opening, that was even hotter.

He pushed against him, then inside, and Jamie groaned, his body rocking forward and then back, and Tyler waited, giving him time to get used to the stretch.

“You feel really good,” he said, running his hands up Jamie’s back, slipping them under the camisole and reaching around to tease Jamie’s nipples again. “Open up for me, c’mon.”

Jamie nodded and pushed back again, more steadily. Tyler knew him well enough to take the cue and start moving. He stopped _thinking_ for the moment, just feeling the slide of his body inside Jamie’s and hearing Jamie’s rough breaths off-rhythm with his own.

Tyler liked to talk while he fucked, but it wasn’t anything that made sense—a running stream-of-consciousness about how hot Jamie was, and how good he felt, and how deep Tyler wanted to be inside him. Now he got to add some commentary about how he loved feeling the fancy underwear under his body, how hot it was to be fucking Jamie with the panties on, how he wanted to see Jamie in matching sets like this all the time. 

Jamie groaned when he talked about that, and pushed back against him harder, so Tyler _knew_ he was into it, that it was good, that this was a thing they could make last between them, maybe. A thing that could be _their thing_ , their secret, special—

Tyler came, slumping down against Jamie’s body, feeling his own sweaty skin sticking to Jamie’s where the camisole had ridden up. 

“Holy shit,” Jamie mumbled, turning his head to take a deep, gasping breath. “Wow. You…”

“I’m super-into this,” Tyler said against Jamie’s shoulder. “You definitely shouldn’t feel bad about it. You definitely shouldn’t ever stop.”

“Okay.” Jamie took another breath and nodded, looking back at Tyler with wide eyes. “Yeah, okay. I won’t.”

**

It wasn’t that Tyler expected stuff to change, really. He just… sort of thought things wouldn’t stay exactly the same.

It was stupid, if he actually sat down and thought about it. He had learned Jamie’s secret, and got in on it. He bought Jamie some presents that might help the guy learn to accept his own kinks. That was big stuff, but it wasn’t like Jamie _owed_ him something now. That was a shitty way to think about a friend. Friends didn’t owe you for being nice to them.

Just, like. He thought something would shift, maybe. Jamie might… not want to see him more, because they saw each other all the time. Not want to fuck more, because they hooked up pretty regularly given their schedules and stuff.

Definitely not stop hooking up with other people, because that just wasn’t… it wasn’t something they were going to do. It wasn’t something teammate fuckbuddies asked for. Tyler _knew_ that. And it wasn’t like he even really wanted it! He just wanted… something else.

It was fucking stupid. Tyler mentally slapped himself around a little and went looking for a distraction.

Going out with the boys after a game was always the best distraction. This time Tyler made sure to stick close to Scevs and Val. He needed to bro around, make some questionable decisions, get his mind _off_ Jamie. So no hanging out with the Benns, Daddy, or married dudes. Only other guys who would step up to the plate and party.

Of course Val turned out to be a fucking traitor and ditched them after like an hour to go home with a girl who was wearing his shirsey. Tyler made a mental note to punish him for that at the next practice and ordered more shots for himself and Scevs. _They_ were going to have fun, at least.

And they did. They got shitface wasted and met a nice girl with short blue hair who laughed at all their jokes and suggested they go back to her place for a threesome. It was awesome and Tyler didn’t throw up on anybody and Scevs didn’t get all weird about keeping the girl between them, he even jerked Tyler off a little when it seemed like he might lose his hard-on. Scevs was a gentleman and a scholar, and blue-haired girl was awesome, Tyler would totally hang out with her again.

When he dragged himself out of his hangover the next day, though, he found a couple of texts on his phone from Jamie, asking, in order, if he wanted to go lift together, if he wanted to get tamales, and if he could confirm that he was alive in case they needed to call someone up from Cedar Park for the next game.

Tyler texted back a poop emoji and slumped back onto the couch. The distraction hadn’t fixed anything. He still felt weird about Jamie.

**

He stewed on it for a few more days. Skating it out didn’t work, and a massage and a haircut didn’t work, and going shopping didn’t work, even though he bought an awesome suede jacket _and_ a whole new couch. The weird just wouldn’t go away.

Jordie invited him over for ribs and video games after practice, when Tyler knew Jamie would be busy with promo shit. Tyler said yes because maybe talking to Jordie would help him sort this out; Jordie was the world’s foremost expert on Jamie, after all. And hey, ribs.

They ate, they shot zombies, they took Jordie’s dog out into the yard and ran around with him for a while. It was nice, even if Tyler couldn’t think of any way to bring up his Jamie problem. He was gearing up to just blurt it out and let the cards fall where they might when there was a knock at the door and he got volunteered for holding Juice back while Jordie went to answer it.

Jordie came back carrying two packages, holding the UPS slip between his teeth. “Fuck yes,” he sing-songed, spitting the slip out and tossing one package on the table. “My Dollar Beard Club stuff.”

“That beard is definitely only worth a dollar,” Tyler said, dodging Jordie’s half-hearted swipe. “What’s the other one?”

Jordie shrugged, picking at the tape on his box. “Dunno, it’s for Jamie.”

Something spiked in the back of Tyler’s brain, hot and restless and reeking of _bad idea_. He knew that feeling. It was connected directly to his mouth and was going to spill out as something stupid. Sure enough. “Well, let’s look at it.”

Jordie rolled his eyes. “No, Segs.”

“Come on.” Tyler grabbed the box and spun it around in his hands, already knowing what the return address would be. “Dude. Yeah. Open it. You’ve gotta see this, it’s great.”

“Tyler, it’s Jamie’s. It’s none of my business.” 

“Come on.” Tyler could hear his voice edging toward a whine. “I swear, it’s… it’s hilarious, you’ll have so much ammo to use on him.”

Jordie put his own box down on the table. “This has to do with something you know about him and I don’t?”

“Yeah.” Tyler tossed the box up and caught it. 

“So, a secret?”

“Yeah, I guess, c’mon.” He felt _frantic_ , twitchy, that hot spike in his head pushing him faster and faster toward bad ideas.

Jordie reached out and took the box away from him. “I don’t go digging in Jamie’s secrets, and you know that, man. If you want to do the thing where you fuck everything up because you’re only happy when you feel bad about something, then whatever, but I’m not gonna help, okay?” He looked disappointed. Tyler fucking _hated_ people looking at him like that. “I thought you were getting over that, anyway. Growing the fuck up a little.”

Tyler faltered, his head clearing for a beat. “I don’t do that.”

“You totally do that, and it’s not cool.” Jordie shook his head. “I love you, Segs, you know that, but if you’ve got a problem with Jamie, sort it out. Don’t blow shit up just so you don’t have to deal.”

“That’s not what I’m doing!”

“Then what _are_ you doing?” Jordie stared at him expectantly, and when Tyler didn’t answer, he tucked the box under his arm. “I’m gonna go put this in Jamie’s room. When I come back, we’ll either talk about this or not. Fair?”

“Fair,” Tyler mumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets. He hated how Jordie was all logical and smart and right sometimes. Older-brother powers. Tyler was an older brother, too, but he never got that upgrade.

He thought about just leaving while Jordie was out of the room; it would be easiest, and probably Jordie would be willing to pretend none of this ever happened. As long as Tyler didn’t do anything to fuck Jamie up, Jordie would let things be.

Tyler didn’t _want_ to fuck Jamie up. And maybe he kind of did want to get some Jordie-style advice about these weird feelings. So he stayed, sitting down on the couch and fidgeting until Jordie came back downstairs and sat next to him.

“Talk it out, Segsy.”

“You’re going to think I’m an asshole.”

Jordie rested his hand on top of Tyler’s head and ruffled his hair. “I already think you’re an asshole.”

Tyler elbowed him in the ribs and then took a deep breath. “Okay. Like… Jamie’s secret or whatever, it’s a thing he feels bad about? But I don’t think it’s bad. I think it’s kinda awesome.”

“No details,” Jordie said firmly, his hand still on Tyler’s head. 

“I know, I know. I’m just saying he feels bad, and I’m helping him, like, feel good about it? Or at least feel _better_.”

“Well, that’s a good thing. That’s being a good friend.”

“Right. I know. But, like…” Tyler blew out a slow breath through clenched teeth. “Shouldn’t I be getting something out of it?”

Jordie raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”

“I don’t know! But I’m, like, helping him love himself or whatever and nothing’s… changing. For me.”

“Do you want him to buy you a puppy?”

“No! God. No more puppies.” Tyler rubbed his face with both hands, wondering if there was some way to just, like, rip it off entirely and change his identity to a better person. “I don’t want anything like that. Not, like, _stuff_. Just…”

“Do you want him to be your boyfriend?” Jordie sounded less mocking this time, more cautious. 

Tyler shook his head. “No. That’s not… me. Us. Neither of us would be happy doing that, you know?”

“I think you could be.” Jordie was quiet for a moment. “If, like, the rest of the world wasn’t involved.”

“Well, yeah. Maybe. If we were totally different people in a totally different situation.” Tyler sighed. “But no. That’s not what I want either. I just… I guess.”

“Talk it out,” Jordie prompted, rubbing Tyler’s head again. His hair was going to be a fucking mess.

“I guess I just, like, want him to say thank you, or something.”

Jordie stopped, then slid his hand down to Tyler’s shoulder and pulled him into a hug. “Segsy. I love you. You’re so dumb.”

“Fuck off,” Tyler mumbled, leaning into him.

“This is something you can actually just talk to Jamie about. And he’ll say thank you, and it’ll be fine. Okay? Talk to him in words. Don’t ruin anything.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Just try to be cool about it. You know Jamie isn’t capable of being cool, so you have to do that part.”

“All right.” Tyler leaned into him for another moment before he made himself sit up. “You totally wrecked my hair, you jerk.”

“Go home and fix it.” Jordie settled deeper on the couch and reached for the remote. “And take your nap.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Tyler flipped him off and let himself out. Jordie was so fucking great. Tyler should buy him a car or something.

**

He napped and played with the dogs for a while, then put on a movie and stretched out on his couch, wincing at twinges of pain in his knee and hip. He wasn’t getting old yet, dammit, but the little stuff like this started early. So unfair.

The movie didn’t hold his attention for long and he grabbed his phone instead, scrolling through a bunch of missed texts. A bank alert that one of his regular withdrawals went through (whatever), a half-off burrito notice from one of the places by the arena (ooh), some bullshit from Blacker (that guy), a picture of a cute dog from his sister (he answered that one; heart-eyes emoji), and then four texts from Jamie.

The first was a picture of the package from Adair Services, lying on Jamie’s bed where Jordie must have left it. The second was a picture where it was open and Jamie’s hand was plunged into the packing contents to pull up a piece of red fabric and gold lace. The third was a close-up of Jamie _wearing_ that fabric and lace, a pair of delicate high-cut panties that showed off his dick and his thighs to really, really good advantage.

The fourth was just a text, sent half an hour ago, that said _Will you wake up already goddamn it Tyler_.

Shit. Tyler fumbled to type a reply. _I’m up now, wow, hi._

_Fucking finally. You like them?_

_Yes!_ Tyler hit the heart-eyes emoji again, then added an eggplant for good measure.

_I picked them out for you. :) :)_

Tyler’s stomach went all hot and twisty at that. _Really?_

_Yes. I wanted something special you’d like. You’ve been so cool about this even when I was freaking out._

Tyler licked his lips and stared at his phone. Apparently Jamie was better at saying thank you in actions than in words. He should’ve been able to guess that, really. 

_You should come over_ , he typed.

_Me and the undies or just me?_

Tyler laughed out loud, dropping his phone on his face and bringing Cash and Marshall running to check on what the fun was and why they weren’t invited. _Undies? Are you six?_

_Shut up. I’ll be there soon._

_Better be,_ Tyler typed, then tossed his phone down and let the dogs climb on top of him for cuddles. 

“Your uncle Jamie is a doofus, but I love him anyway,” he told them, flinching as Cash stepped directly on what felt like his lung. “Ow. Also he looks really good in panties. And you’re both going in your crates when he gets here so we can have lots of sex without the two of you watching us over the edge of the bed.”

Marshall gave him sad eyes at the word _crate_. “I’m sorry, bro, but it’s creepy when I’m getting down to business and you’re watching me. It throws off my game.”

The dogs were pretty clearly not impressed by Tyler’s game in any way. That was hurtful but also understandable. He gave them each a kiss and a treat and put them in their crates.

Jamie showed up a few minutes later, his face turning red as soon as Tyler opened the door and looked at him. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Tyler tugged him inside and reached up to touch Jamie’s hair, which was rumpled up and messy like it got after practice or a game, not combed neatly back the way it usually was when Jamie left the house. “You ran out in a hurry, huh?”

“I’d already been waiting forever.” Jamie hesitated, then leaned in and kissed Tyler softly. “It’s still cool, right?”

“It’s very cool. Any time you want.” Tyler stepped back and tugged Jamie toward the stairs. “Let’s get you out of those clothes. I want to see everything.”

“You’ve already seen all of it.” Jamie giggled, the stupid sweet sound Tyler loved to make happen. “I’ve got no secrets from you.”

“Yeah?” Tyler walked him upstairs and down the hall to his bedroom. “Not any?”

“Not any that matter.”

“Sounds like there’s a story there, Benn.”

Jamie grinned and pulled his t-shirt off. “Maybe later.”

Tyler sat down on the edge of the bed, gesturing at Jamie to keep going. “Take it all off.”

All that was left was his sweats, but Jamie obediently stripped out of them, standing in front of Tyler in the red and gold panties from the photos.

“I _like_ these,” Tyler sighed, reaching for him. Jamie moved closer, letting Tyler’s hands settle on him but not giving up control. He pushed Tyler down on the bed instead, settling over him and kissing him slowly.

“Thanks,” Jamie mumbled against his mouth. Heat rushed through Tyler’s body—did Jordie tell him, did he know what Tyler had been running himself in circles about—before he realized that no, this was just Jamie, doing things at his own pace and time, in his Jamie way.

“You think you’ll tell anybody else about this?” Tyler asked softly, running his hands down Jamie’s back to toy with the lacy band. 

“Like hookups?” Jamie rubbed his face against Tyler’s shoulder. “Probably not.”

“Or if you meet somebody you want to date, like, for real.” Jamie lifted his head and looked at Tyler at that, his eyes dark and serious, and Tyler waited, holding on tight to the lace.

“Maybe,” Jamie said after a moment. “I don’t know, but… maybe.”

Tyler nodded and kissed him again, closing his eyes and sinking into the feeling for a moment. 

“Is that cool?” Jamie asked when they broke apart again.

“I don’t have any right to tell you what to do, dude.”

“I know, but…” Jamie nudged him with his chin. “I mean, if I do tell anybody, ever, it’ll be because you, like, showed me it was okay, you know? Not… awful.”

Tyler looked into his eyes. “Nothing about you is awful, ever. Except how bad your feet smell.”

Jamie laughed out loud and reached behind himself, finding Tyler’s hand and guiding it around to his dick. “Shut up and enjoy your surprise, Segs.”

Tyler could live with that.


End file.
